Songbird
by Ainsil
Summary: Matthew and Alfred have been entertainers at a brothel since they were little. What happens when Matthew meets a charming stranger? Will he stay? Or will he leave his old life and brother behind? M for later things and assaults.
1. Prologue

~oOo Prologue oOo~

Soft feet hit cobblestone as they ran through the dark alleyway and thin shoes did little to protect the man's feet from the biting cold of the stones as he hurried along in the night. In front of him was a man with white hair and a strong back leading him further into the dark city. A squeeze from their conjoined hands reassured him slightly as they continued to run deeper into this maze that they called a city. Breath came out harshly from the chests of the two men, but they were both smiling widely.

Deeper and deeper they ran into the city, running from the shouts of men and the sounds of horses clopping through the stone streets. The two men continued to run, sometimes getting further away from the sounds of the people who were chasing them, and sometimes their pursuers came very close to catching up before the pair ducked into an ever darker alleyway.

"C-Can we slow down for a minute please? I-I can't breathe," a blonde man whispered. The pair had been running for quite a while, both men were drenched in sweat even though there was a chill breeze in the summer air. He was considered a very beautiful man, even rivalling the most beautiful of women. His flush cheeks complimented wide violet eyes in a small heart shaped face. Quite a catch for a man and he was sought after by both genders and lovers of beauty. Soon the two men slowed down to a walking pace, their chests still heaving with sharp breaths.

"Ah! Sorry. I guess I got too into running away to really think," the other man whispered back. Crimson eyes met amethyst and smiles blossomed on the men's faces. The both listened to the silence that fell in the night with quiet rapture. "I think we lost them. How awesome is that?" The white haired man grinned at his companion, gleeful at their escape.

The blond man was about to respond but footstep alerted them of another's presence. Calm steps echoed through the small alley, even steps like the one of a hunter cornering his prey. The two men shot up and began running again. Though luck was not on their side, they turned into a dead end. Boxes and debris littered the narrow passage way. There was no way out, nothing to climb and no where safe. The white haired man turned, perhaps if they ran fast enough they could make it out and still run. A figure standing in entry told them otherwise.

Moonlight shone off the blond head of the figure, illuminating half his face and the pistol held in his right hand. A heavy British accent rang out into the night. "You stupid little lad. You just had to try and run away. Now look what you're going to have to make me do. This really is your fault." The man raised his weapon, aiming briefly before firing it. A shot rang out, the loudest thing the blond man had ever heard in his life. Blood blossomed on white cloth and a man slumped against the cold wall.

A single scream echoed through the night. Full of desperation and fear.

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><p><strong>Hello there! This is my first time writing a fanfiction. I hope you like it.<br>Please review this and tell me your opinions! **


	2. Chapter 1: Meetings

~oOo Chapter 1 oOo~

Matthew Williams sat on a small stage, as he had done for the last eight years of his life. For those long years, both him and his brother worked in a brothel that during the years they worked there had steadily become more and more famous. The two boys each had a special talent on which they grew their livelihoods on. Alfred could play any instrument, with minimal guidance as to where to put his fingers. While Matthew on the other hand, could sing in any language, he just needed to be taught the song twice or so.

Tonight the owner, a stuffy British man by the name of Arthur, requested he learn a couple Turkish songs. An appointment had been made and a large number of Turkish representatives would be there. The man had furthered expressed his eagerness to Matthew as he was given a large sum of money for him to sing. Matthew had become quite famous as the brothel's little songbird along with his brother's god-like hands. Customers from all over the world had come to hear Matthew sing in their native language and Alfred play on familiar childhood instruments and then drown in a night of pleasure.

So here he was, clothed in sheer fabrics and fake silks, singing on pillows dripping with tassells, cording, and beads. His thin frame was clothed in a thin purple fabric which matched his eyes and that flowed when ever he moved. A much more denser fabric covered his lower half in a long skirt with slits up the side. A small veil, decorated with an elaborate hem, covered his nose and mouth and giving him an exotic and mysterious feel as he sang as did the sheer fabric that draped over his hair. He even felt mysterious. Foreign words dripped from his mouth like calm water; he could feel the veil brush against his lips as he sang, it was an odd feeling. The last notes of the song fell away slowly, like daylight fading. Soon the next began, a quiet little ballad.

His brother also sat on the plush pillows, also in costume. His was in varying shades of blue, from the almost full white turban to his near black shoes and deep rich tunic. His head was bowed as he played the Tambur, eyes concentrating on the musical instruments. The night was over relatively quickly, the men were drunk and clamouring over the prostitutes in both genders. Matthew and Alfred bowed to their guests and quietly left the stage, ignoring the pleas for more. Once safely behind curtains did the two brothers sigh in relief. It was over, finally.

Yanking the fabric off of his head, wincing as the gaudy clips that held it there pulled out a couple strands of hair. Matthew set it on a small table that was illuminated by a single candle and turned to face his brother with a smile. "I never knew Turkish was that hard. It felt weird to sing. I don't think it's one of my preferred languages."

"Yeah. You looked really funny as you were trying to learn it. Your face even turned red in concentration," Alfred said as he set down his instrument with a chuckle. "It was hilarious."

"So glad I amused you brother," Matthew retorted as his folded his arms in front of his chest. "You looked like you were having a grand time learning what ever that is."

"It's a Tambur. And I was afraid to break it's neck. I mean, look how tiny it is!"

"Granted, it is a small neck and you have monstrous strength. No wonder you were worried," the younger of the two said as he continued to remove the gaudy, cheap jewelry that dripped from his person. He hated wearing the costumes that Arthur prepared for him, but it was his job and he shouldn't really complain. Even thinking that, he still disliked the gaudy, fake jewels. It made him feel false and not genuine. He didn't really care for actual jewels, he just disliked wearing imitations.

Falling onto a stool that sat in the hallway behind the curtains he sighed loudly. Alfred looked over at him in concern before Matthew waved him away, he was fine, just a little tired. His throat was beginning to burn after singing so long and he needed something to drink badly. Maybe some warm milk with honey or maybe some tea would be nice. He'd have to see if Arthur or one of the ladies would help him take care of his throat. The blond man touched his neck in a concern of his own. He mustn't dawdle or procrastinate.

"Hey bro, I'm going to go put this away before Arthur yells at me for leaving things laying in the middle of the road," he said as he gestured to the instrument in his hands. "I don't wanna get yelled at again."

"Alright, will you be going back to our room after?" His hands slowly fell from his neck to rest on his lap

"Yeah, you comin' bro?" The other man's head tilted slightly to the right as he asked his question whilst leaning on the opposite wall.

"Of course, I need to get changed and get something to drink. I'm parched. Also, I think all the men out there are occupied so I probably won't be noticed as I leave." He watched as his brother nodded and left, cradling the delicate instrument as he went down the hall and through the doors that would eventually lead to their shared room.

There were so many times Matthew loathed his life. Loathing his job, his room's thin walls, his voice...everything. The brothel was quiet during the day, but by night, moans of false passion could be heard through the building's paper thin walls. It made it hard to sleep as a child; Alfred and himself would huddle together under a blanket with their ears covered and eyes squeezed shut. Eventually they got used to the sounds of the men and women. It didn't bother them anymore.

He was beginning to take off the heavy brass necklace that rested on his slim neck from it's complicated clasp, when he heard quiet steps behind him. He called out his brother's name, curious if he came back. A deep voice from someone who was clearly not his brother startled him and he turned around quickly to face the intruder.

"I'm sorry I am not your brother," said a tall, built man. He couldn't see the man's face very well, though he though he saw something white shine from the shadows. Alarm bells began ringing in the young man's head. He began to panic. Wasn't this man a guest? What was he doing behind the curtain? Did he think Matthew was a prostitute also? He was certainly most not one!

"E-Excuse me sir... but what are you doing here? Should you not b-be out with the other guests?" Panic made his voice falter, letting his fear show. He was getting scared, the man wasn't saying anything.

A quiet chuckle escaped the mysterious man, gently shaking his large frame. He stepped closer to the light, suddenly throwing his face into illumination. A strange mask covered the man's eyes, but from what he could see, the man had a strong jaw that was lined with facial hair. He couldn't help but admit that it looked interesting on him. On further inspection, the man was wearing a brightly coloured tunic and some sort of hat that Matthew didn't recognize.

The man stepped further into the light and was soon standing in front of the young man, whose heart was trembling silently in his small chest. "I got bored after you left little bird. All the men are clamouring over the women and pretty boys, so won't you come have a drink with me to pass the time?" Matthew blinked, slightly stunned by the question, it seemed like such an innocent request. The man's voice was deep, it nearly had a rumble to it. It was an attractive voice.

If he accepted the man's offer, he'd have to tell Arthur. What Arthur decided would be law, as he was under the man's protection. Gingerly, he nodded his head, the movement caused the earrings he wore to clink together in a small, metallic chime. "I-I'll have to ask the owner if it's alright, sir," he began to stand up, his voice still wobbling like a child's. He backed up a couple steps, wringing his hands on the smooth skirt he wore as he turned to leave. "If you'll excuse me sir, I will go ask for permission. I'll only be just a moment."

He stopped dead in his tracks as he felt the man's chest gently collide with his back. His panic resumed, speeding up his breathing and tuning his survival instincts in case the man tried to something forceful. "Call me Sadiq," he said quietly. Matthew could feel the movements in the man's chest with each word he spoke. A faint 'clink' sounded somewhere below his jaw, looking down he discovered the necklace he fumbled with had vanished. Spinning around with a hand to his neck in shock and an accusation on his lips, he saw Sadiq twirling the heavy piece around his finger as he smirked.

"Insurance little bird. Just to make sure you come back," Sadiq chuckled to the shocked boy. The heavy necklace swung smoothly from his finger, making full use of the centrifugal force to keep spinning silently. "Now run along to your owner. I will be waiting in the main room with the rest of these animals."

Matthew dashed out of the hall, embarrassment showing all over his face. He was humiliated.

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><p><strong>Thank you all so much for the reviews, they truly made my day! I hope this chapter can live up to your expectations.<strong>

**A little note about Sadiq. I didn't choose him to be this figurative bad guy because I don't like him. I spun a globe and my finger ended up on Turkey. After many spins that landed me in the middle of the ocean, Turkey was the first country I got. Yay for him.  
>Gilbert will probably be making an apperance in the next chapter or so. Maybe.<strong>

**Thank you for reading and please review!  
>Buona notte!<strong>

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**


	3. Chapter 2: Talks

~oOo Chapter 2 oOo~

Matthew's face was a deadly shade of red as he ran through the laughter filled building in search of a particular stuffy British man. His feet thudded painfully against the cheap wooden floors. He had forgotten he wasn't wearing any shoes and to make matters worse, he stepped on a rock that got tracked in somehow. The normally passive man was boiling with anger that he refused to let surface. It would have been unsightly, especially for him.

He finally reached the plain, unstained oak door with a small brass name plate that read 'Manager' and rapped on the hard on the wood. Once for luck, and once for to get the man's attention. Familiar green, yet bloodshot eyes peeked out from the door with utter disdain. "What?" the man barked out. Had he been drinking again? Matthew couldn't smell any liqueur on the man's breath. Maybe he was just in bad mood, not that it was unusual.

"I-I need to talk to you Arthur. I have... a bit of an issue." He flinched as the man glared daggers at him. Arthur was not pleased that Matthew even had the slightest issue. He never caused trouble, so this was unusual. Alfred was usually the trouble maker of the brothers. Picking fights occasionally with guests, or even with Arthur himself. Matthew sometimes thought they fought just to stay in practice.

The man opened the door and walked back to his desk, a feel of grumpiness nearly radiated from the man in palpable waves. Arthur collapsed in his chair, rubbing the skin between his nose and eyebrows with an exhausted sigh. "What is it lad? Is someone giving you trouble?" Arthur's tired voice peeked out from underneath the hand that slid down it's owner's face.

Matthew stood in front of the tired man feeling slightly guilty. He really hated to bother the man, especially when he looked so frustrated and exhausted. "U-Um... I was in the back and I started to take off parts of my costume."

"Clothes, or the flippery silly things?"

"The accessories," Matthew said with a well concealed chuckle at Arthur's word for Matthew's costume. "Anyway, I as I was taking the accessories off. Someone came behind stage and started talking to me." He flinched as Arthur's face darkened a few shades. "H-He took my necklace. He said he just wanted to talk. H-He also said he was bored," his last words faded to a mumble before he continued. "He kept my necklace as insurance so I would come back. I told him I had to ask you first."

The British man let out a ragged sigh as he raked his dirty blonde hair back from his forehead. He looked so tired. "Fine. Just go talk to him. Get him drunk or something and with a girl. And get that necklace back! We need to return that costume to that bloody shop or else I lose my money!" Arthur was beginning to lose his patience. He just wanted the night to end with happy, yet poorer, men and his money gleaming prettily on his desk.

"Y-Yes sir! I'll do my best!"

"Yes, yes. Now go."

Matthew hurried out of room, ignoring the slight pain in his feet. He just wanted to get his stupid prop back and go to bed. He finally reached the door, hearing the loud noises spill from the room without even opening the door. The young man breathed silently, calming himself. He opened the door.

Dim light and laughter rushed through small opening, the whole effect made the young man rather nauseous. He still hated rooms like this. Scanning the room, Matthew looked for the colourful tunic. Finding Sadiq, he quickly walked to the Turkish man, dodging flinging arms and leering looks. Matthew sat down next to the man and mumbled a greeting.

"Hello little bird. I was thinking you wouldn't come back," the Turkish man smirked at him.

"Of course I would. You have something of mine." He couldn't help but glare.

"Yes, yes! That is true. But come sit and talk with me."

"What would you like to talk about, sir?" His stomach did little flip-flops. He couldn't help but be nervous.

"You. You interest me. How did you come to sing in a promiscuous little place like this?" Sadiq poured himself another drink from the brass pitcher on the table before taking a swig.

"Eh? W-Well. My brother and I were abandoned after our father fled back to his native France. Our mother couldn't keep up with the bills, so she sold us. She sold us together, she wouldn't have separated us. Ever," His face screwed up in emotion. Even after all these years, he still hated talking about it.

"Shame. If she new what jewels her sons were I highly doubt she would have sold them." Matthew doubted that even felt sorry for them. Sadiq continued anyway, "Tell me how you started singing."

"After my brother and I were bought, we helped out with basic chores and stuff. We got to know the ladies who work here and one of the ladies who was from a country called Ukraine and I became friends. I noticed her singing something on her time off. I began to mimic it. Arthur soon found out that I could sing and he put that to good use."

"So he just put you on a stage? What about your brother?" The man's face twisted in to a smirk. Not a kind smirk either. Matthew's stomach continued to do flip-flops.

"Arthur found Alfred learning to play a wooden flute one day from a guest. He got really good very fast, so Arthur put him on different instruments to see if he'd get the same results. He did and now we have a better way to earn our keep rather than cleaning and repairing costumes." Matthew remembered Arthur's face as he found the two little gems in his keep, his face had glowed with greed and something else that the young boy couldn't put his finger on.

The two men talked into the night as the room slowly dwindled down to the pair. The guests had been led into rooms where men and women waited for them to take them away in to a night of guilty pleasure and empty promises. Matthew could almost see the greedy glint in the British man's eyes, he could have sworn the man had been a pirate or a thief in a previous life.

The wee hours of the early morning light began to peek through the building's windows and underneath closed doors. Sadiq blinked sleep out of his eyes as he roused himself in to standing. He hadn't meant to stay so long at the brothel, merely go for a drink and a show and then head back to the hotel and catch up on sleep he lost while travelling. Yet he found an interesting little bird who entertained him with quiet tales and soft laughter.

He made a note of telling a friend of his about this very amusing little brothel tucked in London's shadows. His friend was a collector of valuable, priceless and odd treasures; it was a hobby of his. Yes, he would definitely have to recommend this place to his friend. He might find an interesting treasure or two.

Sadiq gave a start as he noticed a soft, rough voice calling his name. Matthew looked up at him from his seat and pointed to the door where a grumpy man stood in the frame, beckoning him over. The Turkish man sighed, it was time to pay his dues. At least it wouldn't be as high as his associates.

Matthew watched as Sadiq counted out some gold coins before depositing them in to Arthur's outstretched hand. A quiet clink in his pocket reminded him of a task he still had to do. He ruffled Matthew's hair and pressed the gaudy necklace in to the man's small hands before heading out the door with a flirtatious wink and a quick farewell. The shocked man merely gawked and blushed furiously as the British man watched on with a raised eyebrow.

Arthur walked over to where Matthew had sat with the guests and poured himself a glass of alcohol out of the pitcher, glaring at the small amount that came out. He even shook it to get every drop, still it only came halfway up the cup. Disappointing somehow. He glared at the boy he half raised with a curious eye. "So what did that man want? Did he try and force himself on you? You didn't drink any of the wine did you? You know what it does to you the next day."

Matthew's fading blush rose again as he shook his head. "He just wanted to talk. He wasn't interested in pleasure, merely company. And he didn't force himself on me. Nor did I drink wine, my throat hurts enough already, I don't need to make it worse."

The British man furrowed his infamous eyebrows and placed a hand on the young man's forehead to make sure he wasn't sick. Matthew wriggled underneath the touch, it made him a little happy when ever Arthur did that. Even if it made him feel like a child.

Arthur removed his hand with a customary frown before shooing Matthew off. "Alright then, you're not sick lad. Go get Katyusha to make you a cup of tea and then head off to bed. When you get up you'll need to take those things back to that french frog. You'll also need to pick up a french dress, the gaudier the better. And get the frog to teach you a new song also. The money'll be with the costume. Take Al with you too."

Matthew smiled sleepily. He could only imagine the Frenchman's face when he got shoved in to the filly, lacy clothing. "Alright sir."

"And Matthew..."

"Yes?"

"Good night."

"You mean good morning?"

"Bloody hell Matthew! Just go to sleep!"

"Yes sir!" Matthew ran off with a smile on his face.

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><p><strong>Hello again X3<br>I finally got working on chapter 2. Hopefully you'll like it!  
>I did this chapter half asleep while in the car 11 hours after I got back from Toronto. Anime North was wicked XD<strong>


	4. Chapter 3: Presents

~oOo Chapter 3 oOo~

Matthew slept well into the afternoon. His thin frame curled up in numerous blankets and his face buried in a mixture of pillows and worn fur. Someone was calling his name and was nudging his side with a foot. He groaned and turned over only to be met with glaring light from the open window. Matthew let out a whine and dove under the covers for delicious, warm darkness. A frustrated huff sounded above him before the covers were cruelly torn off.

He gasped loudly, as the cold air assaulted his warm skin. Glaring weakly at the offender he cried out "N-Nooooo!" before making a grab at the sheets. Alfred held them above his head as smiled tauntingly and shook his head. "Give them back Al! I'm still sleepy..." Matthew made another grab but his brother just stepped back.

"Not a chance brother. Artie says it's time for you to get up," Alfred smiled his annoying grin, one that made people want to punch him in the face. Matthew sorely felt tempted to hit that grin off his brother's face, instead he just buried his head underneath his pillows. Alfred sighed and dumped the sheets on the ground unceremoniously before grabbing his brother around the waist and hoisting him above his head. His younger brother shrieked as he got a very good look at their ceiling.

"A-Alright! I'm u-up! Put me down Al!" Matthew struggled in vain before giving in and became still. It wouldn't do him any good if he struggled and Al dropped him.

His brother chuckled, "I dunno Mattie! Maybe you fell back asleep."

"Not a chance! I just don't want you to drop me," he lashed out and scraped his fist on the wooden ceiling. Crying out, he cradled his fist against his chest and willed tears not to show in his eyes. Only one escaped his determination.

Alfred's grin disappeared in an instant and he gently lowered his brother back onto his bed. Kneeling down in front of the man he looked for any blood, there was a little red trickle coming out of a couple of his knuckles and a splinter sticking out of the back of his hand and it looked like it was big enough to take out by himself. Not too bad, he figured. "Mattie, I'm going to have to clean this and get that splinter out. You goin' to be okay?"

"Y-Yeah... Are you going to put alcohol on it? You know I hate that..."

"I got to Mattie, it makes the wound clean." He knew his brother hated getting wounds, because that meant that he would have to disinfect them. At least he was gentler than Arthur about it.

"Tch... fine. Please be gentle, okay?"

"Always am little brother. Lemme go find the whiskey." Alfred got up to get a box that sat on the shelf above his bed. In it they kept a small bottle of whiskey, rolls of bandages and little packets of throat and stomach medicine. Grabbing the whiskey and a roll of bandages he placed them on the bed while he got a cloth and small bowl of cold water to sooth the burn of the alcohol.

"I'm gonna start now Mattie. Don't kick me like you did last time, alright?" Matthew merely nodded his head, apprehension and fear showing in his eyes.

Alfred decided to start with the splinter, gripping his brother's hand he pinched the skin and gently took the wood between his hand. Using the smallest amount of strength he could muster, he pulled the splinter out of his brother's hand and plunged it into the cold water. Matthew jumped from shock as the cold invaded his hand, numbing it slightly. Alfred then soaked part of the cloth he brought in the whiskey and dabbed it on to his brother's wounded hand. The younger brother yelped at the stinging sensation and tried to pull away. Alfred hung on tight though, it had to be done. Soon the wound was clean and was dressed lightly in bandages.

"There! All done little brother. That wasn't so bad, right?" Alfred ruffled his brother's soft hair as Mattie grumbled about whiskey and how it needed to not exist. He smiled brightly at Matthew before standing up. "Don't forget we've got to take that stuff back to that pervy Frenchman. I'll be waiting by the enterance," he said before leaving the room.

Matthew mumbled an acknowledgement before looking around for the tray of food his brother would have brought. Finding it on the bedside table, he munched on the small sandwich before going on to the apple and chasing it all down with a nice cup of tea.

He quickly got dressed before heading down the wooden steps to the storage room where costumes were kept. Spotting his plain white bag he grabbed it before running out to meet his brother. His brother smiled at him as he ran to meet him and asked about his hand. The alcohol's sting had worn off and there was a dull ache, but he was fine.

Their shoes clicked on the cobblestone as they travelled down the back streets of London. They passed by colourful shops selling everything from men and ladies hats to candles and shoes. Alfred stopped to buy them each and apple while Matthew bought some flowers from a little girl. He felt bad for the little girl, she looked so sad and small. It reminded him of his time before living at the brothel. The two brothers continued their journey, greeting a familiar face on the street sometimes and ducking away from patrol men out of habit.

Twenty minutes later they arrived outside of a familiar frenchman's shop. A brightly coloured sign proclaiming the shop's name greeted them. Alfred's grin dwindled slowly and a look of dread crossed his features. Matthew chuckled at the sight, he knew his brother would praying that the shop's owner wouldn't be in. He would soon find out that his prayers would go unanswered.

Matthew opened the door and a chime of bells greeted the two boys. "Welcome to Mystiq- oh. It's only you two. Che..." A grumpy voice from behind the counter greeted them. A young man, slightly older than themselves glared at them as they walked in. The man's brown hair was mussed from sleep and a wayward curl stuck up. Green eyes observed the two young men as they entered the shop.

"Hello Lovino. Is Francis here? I need a new costume from him and some other stuff," Matthew asked the grumpy man.

"That bastard's in the back, drooling over some of the new stuff that came in."

"Thank you Lovino," he said politely. The man looked like his missed his siesta, it wouldn't hurt to be polite to him.

"Hmp," was the only reply he got.

Matthew went behind the counter and ducked between the bright blue fabric partition. An explosion of colours and fabrics greeted him. Two men clamoured around a wooden box, pulling out different fabrics and chatting excitedly about them. Neither man seemed to notice Matthew standing in the doorway with a bemused smile. A tall blonde man picked up a length of rosy pink fabric and wound it around himself, spinning in delight. Laughter came out from the two men as the blonde man continued to spin, narrowly avoiding the large oak table with various costumes on it in the middle. Matthew coughed loudly in attempt to signal his presence.

The french man stopped in mid-turn and faced the boy in the doorway. A huge smile broke out on his face as he nearly threw himself at the younger man.

"Mathieu! I 'ave missed you mon cheri!" the blonde man cried out as he warmly embraced the smaller man. Matthew truly liked Francis, apart from his groping tendencies. Francis had taught Matthew the French language and he had soon become proficient in it. He took every opportunity to practice it with the flamboyant man, whilst dodging his hands.

The other man looked up and smiled brightly at Matthew. The little Italian man was the twin brother of the man who greeted them in the front of the shop. "Matteo! How have you been?" he asked in a cheerful voice before joining Francis in a group hug.

Matthew felt thoroughly squished, but he made no movement to move away from the embraces. "Hello Francis. Hello Feliciano. I'm doing just fine."

"I suppose you are 'ere for a new outfit mon cheri? What does that insufferable man want to put 'ou in now?"

"Was Arthur impressed with the last one? We worked late into the night for that one. I even skipped some of dinner, fratello had even made his delicious farfalle! Fratello was mad because Francis used his tomatoes again. But the marinara was so good! I'll have to ask Francis for his recipe later." Feliciano chattered on happily, going from tangent to tangent in the blink of an eye.

"F-Francis! P-Please! You're chin is scratchy!" Matthew cried out from a tangle of limbs. The two men released him before ushering him into a seat. Francis picked up the bag Matthew dropped and dusted it off briefly before carefully pulling out the purple costume along with the trinkets. A slip of paper fell out of the folds of clothing and Francis snatched it before it fell onto the floor. A grin crossed the man's features.

"What does it say Francis?" Matthew asked. Feliciano peeked over the man's shoulder and wore a similar grin. Matthew became very apprehensive very fast.

"Hon hon hon~" The man laughed before dancing to the bewildered Matthew. "Arthur wishes for 'ou to be put in 'something glittery and flamboyant, something to suit the French guest's tastes' as he says in 'is own words." A glint in the French man's eyes suddenly made Matthew nervous. Who knew what costume the man would pull out, he just hoped it wasn't dripping in fake jewels.

"Francis," Feliciano began with a mysteriousgrin, " could we use _that_ dress? You know the one we've all been working on?"

"Hm hm hmm! I do believe so Feli! I think that one will be _magnifique_!" Francis purred to his subordinate.

"Oh dear..." Matthew mumbled. He didn't the tones of voices in the two men.

"Wait 'ere mon cheri. I will be but a moment." Matthew nodded hesitantly. What could Francis pull out that was worse than the revealing Turkish outfit?

Francis had skipped happily over to the back storeroom. A thud and a muffled french curse sounded as Francis looked through the boxes before finding the ones he was looking for. Skipping back out happily he thrust four boxes at the nervous man with a command to open them.

Matthew tentatively undid the ribbon on the largest box and lifted the lid. A gasp escaped his lips as he pulled out a pale green dress. The box slid to the floor as he stood up to admire the pretty thing. The dress was strapless, the bodice had a gentle if low neckline and a small ruffle trim. White ribbon roses were embroidered along the top and along the skirt's hem. Matthew was surprised to see the embroidery. "Lovino worked on this too? This emroidery is his work isn't it?"

"Oui mon cheri. And 'e only complained only once."

"Fratello even stayed up late two nights in a row to work on it!"

"It's beautiful Francis! I-I don't know if Arthur gave me enough money to rent this though." Matthew touched the little roses with a delicate finger. The thread felt soft underneath his skin. Lovino must have worked really hard on this, it looked very professional.

"No charge mon cheri! It is a present for 'ou. A very early birthday present 'ou might say," Francis once again embraced the smaller man, this time Matthew wound an arm around the french man also, his other clutching the present to his chest. He had rarely been given presents by someone other than his brother. A happy feeling welled up inside of him as he thanked the two men numerous times.

Francis released him and thrust another box at him. Matthew quickly folded up the dress and placed it back in the box before taking the other one. The slightly smaller box contained accessories that matched the dress perfectly. Matthew pulled out a pair of white cotton gloves with tiny green roses stitched on to them. He tried them on, much to the two men's delight, wincing as the gloves tugged at his bandages.

The third box contained something with numerous pale yellow threads that confused the man immensely until he picked it up. He nearly dropped it with a yell. It looked like a woman's scalp until Feliciano explained that it was merely a wig. Matthew stared at them in confusion until they went on on how it would complete the outfit and that how beautiful he would look with long hair. Matthew blushed furiously.

The last box contained a suit for Alfred, a pale grey morning suit with a crisp white shirt, green cufflinks and smart black shoes. Francis's eyes twinkled as he explained on how that he couldn't just make one outfit without making the matching pair. Matthew chuckled as he thought on how red Alfred's face would be when he looked at the beautiful suit.

Lovino peeked behind the blue curtains with a bored expression on his face. His expression changed rapidly as he saw the opened packages with the dress and suit in it. He blushed furiously and swore, telling them that he should hurry up and not keep his brother waiting because he was horrible to talk to. Worse than a Spaniard even.

Matthew laughed and quickly packed up the boxes before hurrying out of the colourful room. Alfred gave him annoyed look before grabbing the two largest packages from him. Francis handed him his bag, the money left untouched before sending them off.

Alfred shifted the boxes in his arms, asking once what was in them before waving goodbye to the three men.

"So, what's with Frenchie's pink scarf thing?" Alfred asked after they were a fair distance from the shop. Matthew burst into giggles as he tried to explain.

* * *

><p><strong>I couldn't resist not adding in Francis. I had a whole idea that he would be a clothing designer and him and Arthur would have a mutual agreement.<br>I kinda want to see Matthew in a dress... -covers face-**

**I hope you like it!  
><strong>


	5. Chapter 4: Changing

~oOo Chapter 4 oOo~

Matthew and Alfred walked away from the colourful shop with boxes in tow. Alfred insisted on carrying all the boxes but Matthew held tight on to the box with the dress in it. He didn't want anything to happen to the precious thing and thus kept it close to his chest. Alfred gave his younger brother questioning looks, but he just kept on smiling. "So why _was_ Frenchie all dressed in pink? Some sort of new fashion he's trying to push?"

"Hmm hmm hmm!" Matthew hummed cheerfully to himself, "Huh? Oh. That was Francis being his usual self. They just got some new fabrics in and they were excited."

"Bah. Whatever. So why the boxes? He usually puts stuff in the bag."

Matthew gave him a Cheshire smile. "You'll see when we get back brother."

Alfred didn't like that look, he didn't like it one bit. When ever Matthew grinned like that, nothing good ever came out of it. Last time that smile made an appearance, Alfred ended up stunned and on the ground and positively drenched in icy water. Matthew had found it great fun. Alfred did not. He had chased his brother until he was out of breath and Arthur yelled at him about catching a cold. Alfred had sulked in their room for the rest of the day, muttering about how terrible younger brothers were to their elders.

He gulped but kept on walking, every now and then he attempted to take a peak at the boxes but Matthew kicked him gently and gave him a stern look. The man gave up after five or six kicks to the shin. Matthew remained gleeful as Alfred's anxiety grew.

The two young men arrived back at their home soon only to find a grumpy Arthur glaring at them as soon as they opened the faded red door. "Where the bloody hell have you two boys been? It's been ages! I thought you two had been arrested by the bobbies!"

"Yeesh, Artie. Calm down would ya?" Alfred sighed as he shifted the boxes to one hand so he could scratch his head.

"Don't call me 'Artie' you bloody wanker!" Arthur's face was beginning to turn red, Matthew decided he should step in before things got out of hand.

"We're sorry Arthur, I spent a little too much talking with Francis and Feliciano. I do have good news though, regarding the money you gave me."

"Oh? Really now lad?" Arthur raised one caterpillar brow skeptically. By this time, a small crowd had gathered in the hallway. Curious eyes carefully watched the situation, ready to abandon the hallway as soon as it looked like the boss was going to blow his top.

"Y-Yes! Francis didn't charge us anything. He said the outfits he made were gifts, and they'd please the guests we'll be having." Matthew's face lit up once again as he thought of the wonderful gifts. Alfred's jaw dropped as he looked incredulously at boxes he held in his hands, now holding them as if they were diamonds.

Arthur's brows shot up towards his forehead as the crowd behind them let out an excited gasp. Some were jealous. They all got their costumes from the French man, but it was unheard of the man giving away anything, let alone giving it away as a gift. Others were curious on what the boxes held. Fabulous dresses and costumes ran through their heads as they waited with baited breath for Arthur to get them to open the boxes.

"He did that? That _frog_? He must be tricking us or something. Blimey, I wonder if he put something nasty in there," mused Arthur. He was seriously wondering if the bloody frog put a worm or a bug in the packages just to get one over the British man. Though, the Frenchman doted on the boys, so it seemed unlikely. He'd still have to check thoroughly. "Open them boys. Let's see 'em."

The younger of the two smiled excitedly as he grabbed the top two boxes from his brother and placed them on the wooden floors. "That one is yours Al," he said as he began to unwrap his box.

Alfred gulped as he stared at the large box in his hands. Visions of dresses and skirts ran through his head and the thought terrified him. Mattie might be okay with wearing dresses, and some looked fine on him, but Alfred wouldn't be caught dead in one. Frenchie wouldn't be too mean as to give him a dress...would he? Gingerly, he undid the ribbon and waited for the explosion of lace and petticoats.

Which never came. Instead, what greeted him was not ruffles, but crisp grey fabric. Alfred gently pulled out the jacket, careful to not rip the fabric in his hands, and stared at it. It was definitely not a skirt or a dress, though he scanned the package with his eyes quickly to make sure no ruffles were peeking out. The box also contained matching pants and vest with a fresh white shirt, green cufflinks and a matching green cravat. It was a perfectly manly package, nothing feminine about it. Unlike his brother's package.

Squealing pierced his right ear as a crowd of girls surrounded Matthew. Placing the wonderful suit back in the box he peeked over one of the girls shoulder to see what his brother's packages contained. Alfred's jaw dropped as he saw the green dress his brother was holding. It was beautiful, but it was a _dress_! A frilly, ruffly, dress! He had seen his brother in dresses before, but never to this flamboyant extent. He wasn't really sure how he thought he thought about it. His brother would surely look good in it, but did that Frenchie have to make it so _feminine_? "T-That's quite the dress brother," he said hesitantly.

"Ah! But it's so pretty! You have to try it on Mattie and show us!" a woman by the name of Elizabeth said to Al.

"E-Eh? Right now?" his brother said with a flustered expression. Chorused exclamations of "Yes!" rang through the crowded hall and Matthew blushed and lowered his head. Al frowned, but pushed through the crowd and slung an arm over the smaller man's shoulder.

"We'll both try them on! Will that satisfy everyone!" The small crowd cheered it's agreement and Alfred grinned and led Matthew down the hallway to their shared room. Alfred chuckled mischievously as they continued, Matthew unfortunately didn't share his feeling.

Matthew struggled to carry his boxes up the steps and into his room. Placing the boxes on his bright red blanket he spun around and glared at his brother. "Do we really have to show everyone? What on earth were you thinking brother?"

"Ha ha ha ha ha! They're gonna make me try this on eventually so we might as well do this together. Besides, you're gonna need help with that won't ya?" the young man laughed at his brother who looked like he was trying to be angry, but was failing spectacularly. Alfred always laughed at his brother's miniscule temper, though there had been times he actually cowered in fear when Matthew blew up. Not that he'd admit it to anyone that is.

"Haaa...," his brother sighed as he sat next to his boxes. Really, Alfred just wanted to show off his new clothing. At least, that's what Matthew thought. Gently, he touched the soft fabric inside the box and pulled out the green green dress and set it on his lap. "Alright then, I'll _will _need your help. It looks like Francis sewed a million buttons on this."

Alfred smiled at his victory and took his own clothing out to lay on his bed. He surveyed the work and a smile crossed his face, he couldn't really believe that he owned something so nice. Or the fact that it was _his_ and only _his _and and he didn't even have to share! He'd have to somehow thank the Frenchie, even if he really didn't want to thank that man. "Heh. Let's get changed now!" He couldn't wait to see Artie's face when he walked down the stairs looking all dandy and nice. He could just see it now, the man's jaw hanging open and his eyebrows raised in shock. Alfred chuckled at the thought.

The two men began to change in to their new clothing. Alfred got dressed first so he could help his brother change in to his own outfit. He almost couldn't believe he owned this fine thing. Glancing in to their old and slightly cracked mirror he smiled at his reflection. Now he looked like a proper young gentleman, though something looked off.

"Al, you forgot your cravat," his brother said while he held up the green fabric and pin. Matthew smiled at Alfred as he walked over to slip the cravat around his brother's neck. He tied the fabric in a neat knot and pinned the fabric together. He was doing this from memory, as he had seen Arthur tie his own many times before.

"Ah! Thanks brother! I didn't know I needed one."

"Jeez Al. Every gentleman needs a cravat. As Francis and Feliciano would say, 'it completes the outfit,' and frankly they were right. It looks much better with the cravat," Matthew smiled as he lectured his brother. Alfred really did look quite dashing in his new clothing, he could probably woo any woman or man that he wanted to.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Outfits ain't complete without their little bits and bobs. It's your turn now though! Get out your ruffly things and lets get you dressed too," Alfred said as he picked up Matthew's dress and held it out to him. Matthew quickly stripped down and put on a light slip that would be unnoticeable underneath the dress. He slipped on the white blouse he found underneath the dress and he also found a matching jacket, so he could wear the outfit out and still keep in line with the proper mannerism of the present day. Alfred helped him put the dress on and skillfully did up all the little buttons in the back. He was used to helping his brother put on elaborate costumes so little things like buttons or snaps were simple for him.

The dress hugged Matthew's body well, fitting snugly around his chest and flaring out to give an illusion of womanly hips. Matthew shrugged on the jacket and did up the middle button so he could still see the embroidery on the chest. He slipped on the wig and was instantly transformed in to a young woman with bright violet eyes. He blinked at himself in the mirror and smiled. Francis truly made wonderful creations.

Alfred stared at his brother. One moment he was a young man and in a matter of short minutes he was transformed in to a proper young woman. It was almost eerie on how feminine his brother was, but he truly made a lovely young woman. "Shall we go, my lady?" he said with a bow and a mocking grin before offering his brother his arm.

Matthew tugged on his gloves and curtsied with a matching grin. "I believe we shall," he chimed before taking the offered arm. Alfred closed the door behind them as the walked out in to the hall and proceeded to the stairs. They walked down the stairs slowly, smiling at the rising gasps and cheers that echoed from the men and women downstairs. Even Arthur was speechless. The occupants crowded around the two men, excitedly chatting about the new outfits and how amazing the two looked. Alfred and Matthew smirked at each other as they saw Arthur's face was still in a state of shock.

* * *

><p><strong>I feel really bad that this chapter took me so long to write. I dunno. I guess I got stuck on where I wanted it to move.<br>I really wanted to stick with some of the Victorian period clothing so he needed a blouse. XD  
>I hope you enjoyed the chapter!<strong>

P.S. Gilbert makes his appearance in the next chapter. I promise!


	6. Chapter 5: Information

~oOo Chapter 5 oOo~

A young man walked down the streets of the bustling city of Königsber, taking in the familiar sights with ease as he travelled. This city was his home. He smirked to himself as he passed by shops and by people he didn't know. Breathing in the scent, he continued to a building near the centre of the city. Today he was meeting an old friend. Apparently the man found something that would interest the Prussian. A new, elusive treasure perhaps? The young man licked his lips in anticipation.

He reached the building he wanted to in a short time. A tall, plain building dressed in tan stones greeted him as he stepped in it's shadow. He looked up at a large white stone that proclaimed the name of the building, 'Beilschmidt und Söhne'. It was not a very descriptive sign, but the everyone knew it as the local bank. Frankly, it was the most well known bank in all of Prussia. All the business men, the rich and the richer, and the aristocracy would come to keep their money safe. Or to invest or to do anything. And it was all run by two men, both younger than 25.

Gilbert Beilschmidt walked up the steps of the bank his grandfather built. The heels of his shoes clacked smartly against the stone steps as the man put on his trademark smirk that he always wore when he was pleased. Today he was meeting an old friend, one who apparently had some very interesting news. He gave a flirtatious wink to his secretary, who responded with a cold look.

"Your guest, Herr Adnan, is waiting for you in your office," the blonde woman said as she continued to write something on an important piece of paper. "I also need you too look over these sir, they're for the Acht funds." She finished the paper with a jab and held it out for him to take.

Gilbert sighed and took the paper the woman offered him, giving a quick look he made a mental note to give this to his brother later. There were too many numbers and legalese and frankly, that was _not_ his forte, but his younger brother's. Within a couple of steps he reached his large wooden door that led to his office and opened it with a flourish. The large Turkish man looked at him once with a raised eyebrow before turning back to sip some dark aromatic liquid from his cup. "Must you be so loud in the morning my old friend?" the man said as he glanced at him through his pristine mask.

"One must have energy in the morning to have energy all day my friend," the Prussian man said with a smirk as he held out his hand to clasp the others. The Turkish man set down his cup and stood to clasp his friend's hand as they smiled at each other. "So," Gilbert said with his grin, "did you come here to do some actual banking or was this just for the information? Which, by the way, I am very curious to hear." He chuckled to himself and Sadiq raised an eyebrow at the sound. Gilbert's snicker sounded very strange, almost as if he was saying, "Ke," then, "sesesesese" numerous times and very quickly. After years of knowing the man, his chuckling still seemed strange as always.

"No, I did want to check on my family's company's account. My father asked me to check the profits they are making this term."

"Ah. Give me a second, I'll bring up the papers right now." Gilbert peeked his head out of the door and cleared his throat to get his secretary's attention. She looked up and arranged her glasses with a cool nod to the man.

"Yes?" she said, "Is there something you need Herr Beilschmidt?"

"Could you bring me the Adnan Trading Company file? I don't know where you keep the files."

"It's already on your desk Herr Beilschmidt. Did you not see it there?" She pushed her glasses up farther on her nose and flicked away a lock of hair that rested on her shoulders as she gave him a slightly condescending look.

Gilbert blushed slightly. He really didn't look at his desk at all. A quick peek over his shoulder informed him that the file was indeed there. "Ah! Thank you Frau Veronique That was...most helpful." He ducked back in to his office as his secretary shook her head and sighed.

Sadiq smirk as he raised his cup to his lips and sipped the thick brew. "I knew it was there," he chuckled.

"Then why didn't you tell me you der dreckskerl? It would have saved me from making a fool out of myself!" His brow was furrowed in annoyance at his friend. Now he looked like an idiot.

"It's not my job to tell you where your files are. You just didn't look," Sadiq finished the last of his coffee with a frown and peered into his cup. He felt slightly disappointed that there wasn't more, granted, the Prussians didn't make the best cup of coffee from his homeland.

He decided to ignore the man, nothing good would come of it if they started a fight. Gilbert flicked through the file on his desk as he sat down, raising an eyebrow at the profit's that seemed to increase at a steady rate with a few plateaus here and there. "Your profits are rising. Fairly steadily might I add. Though I would suggest not making any radical business moves for a while. You don't have to financial back up to risk anything just yet."

"Alright, so no major business moves for a while. Though, my father wanted to start some business with this hazelnut merchant from Giresun."

"I'll talk to my brother about the numbers, but I'd wait till you could see a real business for hazelnuts in your branches," he scratched his chin before flicking through more pages. "Yeah, I'd wait for a market first." He watched as Sadiq nodded to him, considering his advice. "So is this all? Or will you ever tell me about this information I would so love to hear."

"Alright," Sadiq said as he watched Gilbert's face light up. On numerous times Sadiq had given the man little bits of information about famous art or priceless treasures. The information brought the two together as they hunted for the rare and the beautiful. The only times they argued was who would get their latest find. Ludwig would sometimes have to restrain his brother before the Prussian man threw a punch.

"Is it another painting? I'm still looking for more of Jean-Honoré Fragonard's works." He was now leaning forward, curiosity sparking in his crimson eyes. The financial paper lay forgotten on his desk.

"It's nothing like that. This treasure is much more alive than any painting," Sadiq said as he inspected his fingernails while lounging in his chair. He knew very well he was baiting the man. He also knew Gilbert knew he was being baited.

"This isn't another rare cat is it? Your lover like those. They make me sneeze; I don't like cats..." Gilbert frowned as he brought his interlaced fingers to rest under his nose. The man crossed his ankles as he wondered what Sadiq had found. He wouldn't object if he found a cute, rare bird or something like that.

The atmosphere between the two men grew heavy as Gilbert was thinking. He felt like he was in a business deal that desperately needed to go through rather a chat between two friends. The silence was growing uncomfortable for the man so he cleared his throat. "Ahem, is it perhaps a rare bird?"

"Something like that I suppose."

"You suppose?" he said with a raised eyebrow, "How is that possible? Is it a bird or not?"

"Well," Sadiq mused as he played with the cuffs of his jacket, "they can be thought of as a songbird, but it's really a human. A young man actually, probably no older than 18."

"A boy is a songbird? What's special about this guy?" Gilbert leaned back in his chair, slightly less interested. Just a boy then...

"He sings," Sadiq simply stated. "He can sing in any tongue he wants to. His brother is gifted with music also. They are both very beautiful." Cocking an eyebrow to the man he waited an gauged his reaction.

"So?" he scowled, "Lots of people can sing in different languages."

"So flawlessly? And in such short preparation time? He sang in my language as if he had been born speaking in the entire time. I was very impressed."

"How long did they prepare?" He silently guessed a week or so earlier.

"The night before they preformed. Probably two hours practice in total."

Gilbert's pale eyebrows shot to his hairline. That was impressive. Especially to practice for only two hours and impress someone who spoke the language since birth. A small smirk crossed the man's features. "He's beautiful also?"

"Yes, very. Much prettier than the whores they were selling there. Wavy blonde hair and strange purple eyes," A smile crossed the Turkish man's features and he slipped out a package of cigars from his jacket pocket and offered one to his friend. Gilbert declined with a wave of his hand. He shrugged and lit the cigar and placed it in his mouth before gently blowing out the smoke. "His brother was handsome, with a strong jaw, blonde hair and blue eyes. They make two very pretty jewels to have."

"Where did you find these treasures my friend?" Gilbert coughed slightly at the smoke, but made no movement to get up and open a window. Now he was genuinely curious on these two lads Sadiq had his eye on.

"At a little brothel in London. They do quite well with their two little treasures raking in the money. Though the owner isn't very accommodating when he's thinking you are monopolizing them."

"Ahh... So they have a guard dog now. That just makes it even more fun to steal them away."

"I don't think you'd have any luck getting both, probably just the little songbird. He's more your type." Sadiq had leaned back in his chair and was now blowing smoke rings in to the air. Casting a masked eye at his friend he was pleased to see a grin on the man's face. He was interested now.

"I will go after whoever I damn well please," he smirked as he titled his head slightly and looked down on the man.

"I knew you would say that," the Turkish man murmured as he got up from his chair and handed him a slip of paper with information on it. "I hope this information was... interesting... for you Gilbert."

Gilbert also stood up to see the man out of his office. Smiling, he clasped the man's hand and bid him farewell. Stepping out of his office he approached Veronique, "Frau Veronique, I need you to get me to London. I'm on a search for another treasure."

"How long will you be gone Herr Beilschmidt?" she asked while jotting down information.

"As long as it takes," he stated with a trademark smirk as he chuckled under his breath. A guard dog for a little bird would be an interesting challenge, and he looked forward to it.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you so much for all of these reviews. They make me very happy when ever I get one. Please keep them coming! I would also like to hear your opinions on how the story is progressing, be it bad or good.<br>**

**I did saw Prussia would appear in this chapter. Though Matthew and Gilbert won't meet for another chapter or so.  
>This chapter was interesting to write. I pictured Gilbert and Sadiq as friends who collected various rare and beautiful objects and then flaunted them in the others face. Thus angering each other and then scurrying off to find something bigger and better. Ahh...The frivolities of the rich.<strong>

**Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.**

**P.S. I haven't decided on Alfred future love. I would love to hear your opinions.  
><strong>


	7. Chapter 6: Drunk

~oOo Chapter 6 oOo~

A silver haired man stepped onto the rough wooden planks that would lead him to the deck of the ship of the Frederich II's maiden voyage. He waved briefly at his brother before heading in to the luxurious lounge that awaited him. He didn't bother with the silly waving of handkerchiefs and waving that his fellow passengers seemed to favour. He picked a comfortable arm chair by the window and a man in a server's uniform offered him a glass of champagne, which he accepted with a nod. The crash of glass to metal could be heard before a loud cheer was raised. It seemed like the ship had been christened and they would leave soon. It was still a waste of good alcohol. He continued to stare outside the window with a secret smile on his face, oblivious to the man watching him with curiosity.

Two days had passed in a uninteresting fashion on the boat and Gilbert was growing bored. The other aristocrats were bubbly, polite and air headed in his opinion. All they talked about was their families, the latest trends in fashion or gossiping about the other passengers on the ship. He had thought he had found someone slightly interesting but the man turned out to be just as air headed as the lot of them.

It was the third day in his journey and they would be stopping in Denmark to refuel before carrying on to the last leg of the trip. When the announcement that they landed in Denmark came, the Prussian nearly jumped for joy. He was absolutely sick of being cooped up in this floating metal box. This little bird better be worth it.

Gilbert finally roused himself off of the armchair in his room to head down to the dining hall for a late summer. A deep orange light filtered through the windows in the hall casting his shadow on the wall and paintings and filling the space with it's orange glow. He spotted a fellow shadow approaching his own and he turned around to greet the person, but nothing was there. The Prussian shrugged his shoulders and continued on.

The dining room was lit by a few electrical lights and many candles. A romantic feeling could be felt throughout the space and Gilbert nearly vomited. He briefly wondered how many Frenchmen were on this ship. Too many for his liking. He slinked off to a quiet corner, far away from the vomit inducing couples that crowded around the windows and opened the waiting menu that greeted his place. He browsed the menu, picking and choosing items hear and there as he waited for the server to take his order. He didn't have wait very long as a voice by his shoulder grabbed his attention. "Have you made a selection for your meal, sir?

"Huh?" he blinked, "Yes, I'll have the Parisian styled onion soup, followed by a herb crusted rack of lamb, then roasted seasonal vegetables." He handed the menu to the man and leaned back into his seat.

"Anything after dinner, sir?"

"A chocolate brandy souffle."

"Excellent choice sir. I will bring them out right away." The man slunk off into the shadows and leaving Gilbert alone with his thoughts. He was looking forward to the food. As boring as the ship was, they had damn good chefs.

Dinner was a quiet affair, the food was well done and Gilbert enjoyed his silence. Placing the last part of the souffle in his mouth he set his fork down with a flourish. Now that he was full he felt like having a beer. His face molded into a smirk and he headed in the direction of the bar and lounge.

Two hours later Gilbert had loosened his neck tie slightly and his head was pleasantly buzzing with the influence of the alcohol. He hummed cheerfully under his breath as he took another swig of a liquid he couldn't remember ordering. "Bartender! Another one of what ever this is!" he cried jubilantly, ignoring the slightly concerned look on the bartender's face.

"Ah, I vill have vhat he is 'aving bartender." The Prussian gave the newcomer a sluggish blink before grinning at the man. The room was dim, a few electrical lights and candles let the patrons at least see where their drink was, Gilbert couldn't quite make out the man's face. In the morning all he would remember was an unnerving smile and a pair of cold, violet eyes.

The bartender arrived with their drinks and the strange man took his and downed it in one go. The man sighed and placed his glass down on the smooth dark wood of the counter. "Veak," he simply stated.

"Weak?" Gilbert asked simply. He thought the alcohol was a little weak, but not to the extent that he would be disappointed in it. "I suppose you have something stronger then?"

"Da, Vodka. Is like vater from my land, but is much stronger than dis stuff." Smiling coldly the man pulled out a silver hip flask and poured some clear liquid into his own glass. Gently, he took Gilbert's glass from him and poured a small dose of the alcohol in it before returning it to it's owner with a smile. "My name is Ivan. Vhat's your's?"

"Gilbert. Prost, Ivan." The Prussian smiled and tapped his glass to his new friend's.

"Budem zdorovy, Gilbert," Ivan replied.

Pounding was the first sensation the Prussian woke up to in the late morning. Not the warmth of the cruel sun shining on his face from the gap in the curtain or the warmth of the quilt that covered him. He sat up slowly, wincing as the room swam before him. There was pounding, and for a moment it sounded like someone was at the door. Though it was only his head. Gilbert reasoned he hadn't had a hangover this bad in years. It must have been that Russian alcohol.

Russian alcohol? Did he have some strange some strange alcohol last night? The man he met turned out to be Russian, so maybe he got it from him. Slowly, his memories began trickling back at the pace of molasses.

"_So vhat are you travelling for Gilbert?" Ivan asked, his words not even slightly slurred given the vast amount the man had consumed._

"_Treasure hunting!" the man cried happily, "I'ma gonna find me a a cuuuute lil' songbird! Kesesesesese!"_

"_And you vill find this 'songbird' in gloomy place like England?"_

"_Yeaaaah," he said in a singsong voice, "My buddy, he found the lil' birdie in a brothel~ And I'm going to steal him away~" _

"_So you plan to steal birdie away, von't you have troubles?" Ivan smile turned slightly cruel for some reason he couldn't place._

"_Naaww~ I can get rid of anything! I am awesome after all. Kesesesesese~" he chuckled, "Maybe I'll even take his brother too!"_

"_This little songbird has brother? Vhat is so special about these siblings?" Ivan leaned in slightly, his interest was piqued. _

"_Yeaah," he slurred and nearly fell off his chair, "Birdie can sing in annnnyyy language! His brother can play annnnyyy instrument!" _

"_Very interesting, I might have to see this, da?" Ivan murmured._

"_You say somethin' buddy?"_

"_Nyet," he said with a smile._

So he had talked to Ivan about his plans. It seemed innocent enough, it's not like the man would come after him and take his prey out from under him. Right?

"_So what are you going to Britain for? Trying to escape a marriage or something?" Gilbert asked finally after he gave up on drinking for the night. _

"_A-Ah...um...N-Nyet, no. Vell, yes I am," Ivan gingerly admitted. He fidgeted in seat slightly and looked away._

"_Really? Is she ugly or something? Is that why you are running away?"_

"_Nyet. She is very pretty, just very...obsessive about me. I do not love her, but she is very determined. She's even followed me home. I am hoping that she vill never find me. Here, this is her." He held up a photo of a neatly dressed young woman looking coldly away from the camera._

"_Wow!" Gilbert whistled in appreciation, "I'd like to spend some time with this beauty!"_

"I vould advise you not to talk about my sister like that." Ivan's mood darkened and thus somehow affected the surrounding area. A couple of other patrons at the bar quickly left, not bothering to look back at the large man.

"_She's your sister?" he sputtered, "B-But she wants to marry you!"_

"I know," Ivan said and looked away sadly. "But perhaps I vill visit this brothel and it vill make me feel better."

"_Kesesesesese~ Maybe you'll find some nice lady or man to take home and drive away that harpy of a sister. Just no touching Birdie! He's mine~"_

"_I von't make any promises."_

Gilbert couldn't remember anything after that. What did Ivan mean by not making any promises? Who cared. It's not like he was going to steal his prey. The Prussian flopped back down on his bed and rolled away from the sunlight. He closed his eyes and evened out his breathing and soon he was fast asleep.

By the time Gilbert woke up it was the afternoon of the next day. Blinking slowly he raised his head from the pillows and was pleased to see that the room no longer spun. Grumbling, he slowly got out of bed, wobbled once and then got dressed. Packing his clothing away he placed it on the large, stained oak table in the corner of his room. Gilbert faintly became aware of the unpleasant motions his stomach was making. He realized he hadn't eaten in over a day. Frowning, he slipped on his black leather shoes and headed off to find something to eat.

Strangely, he never saw Ivan again on the trip. He almost began to doubt the man existed.

The rest of the afternoon passed easily. He chatted with a few single (and very pretty) women and talked business with some of the men. The captain of the ship was walking around informing people that they would land much sooner than they assumed. Instead of landing in the morning, two days from now, they would be landing tomorrow afternoon. Gilbert cheered silently at the news. He was dreadfully bored on this ship, the sooner he got off, the better.

Time passed more quickly to the man now that the end was in sight. He was in his room, finishing up a journal entry, when a servant knocked on his door. He opened it with a frown. "Sir, we will be arriving in the port in one hour. The captain asks that you have everything from your room cleared."

"Ja, ja. I will."

"Very good, sir. Have a pleasant afternoon."

The hour passed quickly, and soon Gilbert found himself blinking in the afternoon sunlight as he stepped off the boat. A malicious grin formed on his face. It was time for the search to begin.

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><p><strong>Thank you all for the reviews!<strong>

**Here is another Gilbert chapter. The next one will definitely have our favourite North American brothers in it!  
>Can't you just see Ivan being the one creeper on the boat and Gilbert being too drunk to care about being afraid?<strong>

**YaoiBoy7: I like your idea for using Vash as part of the bank employees. I'll squeeze him in later, probably as the head of security.**

**P.S.  
>I have decided on Alfred future love. Cold War pairing FTW.<br>**


	8. Chapter 7: Gloves

~oOo Chapter 7 oOo~

Gilbert paid for a carriage to take him to the nearest train station. He eyed the horses suspiciously while he waited for the carriage driver to take out his luggage before finding a trolley and wheeling his trunk and suitcase towards the porters. Veronique had already arranged for most of his travel, but she hadn't had enough time to finish his travel preparations once he arrived in England. Thankfully she already arranged for his hotels first.

He ambled over to to the booth which he assumed the tickets were sold and bought a ticket for the next train, which luckily would be coming in half an hour. The trains ran constantly between Margate and London and the conductor was very precise about the time. The ticket seller assured him that the train would be on time and he would be within London at precisely 12 o'clock. Sure enough, the ticket seller was correct, much to Gilbert's dismay. He ended up up betting the ticket seller a full shilling that the train would even be a tiniest bit late. Unfortunately for him, the train was one minute early. He flipped the coin to the ticket seller, who caught it with a smirk, and gave the man a scowl. His trip already wasn't faring well.

Not even five minutes later he was on the train and seated in his own booth. The whistle sounded shrilly and they were off, green hills rolling by his vision without a care in the world. Gilbert stared out of the window, almost nodding off. They were still passing through farmland, nothing for a bored man to see but some sheep and the occasional cow. Gilbert mentally kicked himself for forgetting to bring a deck of cards, at least he could have amused himself that way. Checking his pocket watch for the fifth time he saw that he still had half an hour before they got there; an irritable sigh left him. Grumbling, he threw his legs onto the opposite seat, not caring if it got dirty; it wasn't his problem, and crossed his arms and closed his eyes.

The loud shrill of the train whistle startled the Prussian nearly out of his seat, he clutched the grey fabric of his morning suit in his to his collarbone and he sat up and attempted to calm his breathing down. Swearing loudly, he neatened his appearance and watched out the window as the train slowed down and soon stopped. Raking back his silvery hair with one hand he rubbed his eyes with the other.

The train slid to a screeching halt and the man stood up and stalked out of the locomotive. He waited impatiently for his luggage with the rest of the passengers. Steam billowed slowly out of the top of the iron beast, parting and drifting away into the noon sky. He smirked to himself. One step closer.

It's not like this was the first time he had gone on a spur of the moment trip to capture a treasure, at least this time it was in Europe still! Ludwig had been quite furious with him after he left suddenly one afternoon to go to India for a golden bird statue. It had taken a month of searching, but he came back victorious and to a furious family. He had forgotten to tell them where he was going and they didn't appreciate that.

The porter appeared suddenly at his side with his luggage. The man smiled at him and wished him a good day, smiling even more when the Prussian tipped him. Gilbert nodded at the man and heaved his stuff on a dolly once again. He managed to hail a carriage again and was off to the hotel he would be staying at.

The carriage driver helped him get his trunk and suitcase down from the back and left him with a tip of his hat and left him. The clopping of the horse was soon lost in the traffic of the busy street. He ignored it as one of the hotel bellboys grabbed his luggage and led him inside. The bellboy waited patiently by the desk so the Prussian could get the key to the room. The lobby was richly furnished, painted a calm blue, dark wooden bookshelves filled with books lined some of the walls. A group of cream wingback chairs sat nest to the fireplace, a cozy and inviting scene to anyone. Landscapes and paintings of flowers were placed around the walls. He smiled as the concierge opened his book and smiled at him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Beilschmidt, I presume?" When Gilbert nodded at the man, wincing inwardly at the butchering of his family name as the concierge continued, "Wonderful. My name is Jonathan Coles. Your room has been prepared and has everything your assistant ask that be provided for you. Your room is up on the third floor, room 312. Your assistant also never mentioned when you would like to check out." The man placed a brass key on the ledge in front of the Prussian.

"That is because I do not know how long I will be staying here," he said with a smirk. Gilbert tucked the key into his jacket pocket and motioned for the bellboy to lead the way, which the man did with a small bow of the head.

The room was comfortably furnished. The wallpaper was a cream and green laurel and torch pattern. The double bed had a simple white headboard and simple legs. The room had a pale dresser with a mirror in an elaborate frame and a thin wardrobe in which he could hang his suits. The room had pale, wooden floors with a simple rug. In the corner there was a writing desk and a wooden chair. Right next to the window, a green wing back chair sat invitingly. Lugging his trunk to the foot of his bed and placing his suitcase on his bed. In a matter of minutes, his suits, pants and shirts were hung up and he felt more at home.

A quick lunch at a restaurant and later he took a walk around the city. He watched from a bench in a park as clouds of steam and smoke flew up in the sky. A satisfied smile appeared on his face.

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><p>"Come on Matt! Pleaaassseeeee~" Alfred whined, his eyes turning large and sparkling.<p>

"N-No Al, I'm not gonna do it," Matthew said as he frowned. Al would not be winning this battle. A few of the other members of the brothel turned their head as they listened to the two brothers argue. A couple of the women approached them with curious smiles on their faces.

"Everything alright lads?" one of the three women asked.

"Suzette~," Alfred pleaded to her, "Mattie said he won't dress up and come shopping with me. I wanna pretend to be one of those prissy gentleman who takes his sister shopping. But Mattie doesn't wanna! He's being mean!"

Suzette chuckled at the immature antics of the man. Smiling at Matthew, she gave him a sympathetic look, "Aww c'mon lad. It wouldn't hurt at all. No one can even tell. Make your brother happy." Alfred's face took on a hopeful look, Matthew just continued to frown.

"Pleaaaassssssssssseeeeeee~" Alfred's whining was beginning to get on his nerves.

"F-Fine! But if someone finds out I am going to punch you so hard!"

"Ha! Your punches are nothing!" Matthew glared at his brother and punched him smartly in the arm. Alfred yelped and clutched at his wounded arm and pride.

Three quarters of an hour later, Matthew was transformed into a lovely young woman being escorted by her brother into the streets of London. Even though it was a warm day, he was still wearing the blouse and jacket buttoned up to as far as they could go. He didn't want to take any chances. "So what did Artie ask us to get?" Alfred asked with a cocky grin.

Matthew glared at him, but answered with the most level voice he could manage at the time, "We need five loaves of bread and some fruit. He also wanted us to get some sausages, the good kind, not the cheap ones."

The fruit seller didn't recognize them and even threw in a couple of extra apples for the 'pretty lady'. The two brothers found out the most of the places they went the male shop keepers gave them discounts or threw in some extra stuff. All Matthew had to do was smile kindly. Alfred found it hilarious. Matthew silently planned his revenge. He also made Alfred carry the bags.

They decided to take a detour through a park. It was a nice day and Matthew wanted to see the ducks that resided in one of the ponds. The two brothers were in a deep conversation about some of the pieces they would be playing soon. Tomorrow night, they would be playing for no particular reservation and they were still undecided on which songs to play. Someone crashed into Alfred's side, a quick step backward prevented him from dropping his bags. "Hey! Watch where you're going buddy!" Alfred said with an indignant voice.

The man before them gave them an arrogant look, as if Alfred had dared spoken back to such a high class gentleman. On Matthew's closer inspection, the man was quite strange. He was nearly completely white. Minus his blood red eyes. A shiver ran up Matthew's spine. And all of a sudden the man smiled at him.

"I did not see you there sir," the strange man grinned at them. It wasn't a particularly nice grin in Matthew's opinion, it looked slightly sinister. Alfred moved slightly so he was in front of Matthew, protecting him with his own body. The man bowed his head in apology.

"You don't sound like you're from here sir." Alfred shifted the bags in his arms slightly before giving the man a suspicious glare.

The albino man laughed suddenly. "Nein, I am from the Königreich Preußen. I still have an accent, though I have been speaking English for a long time."

"So what are you here in England for? Business?" Alfred visibly relaxed, his shoulders lots their tense position and a smile was beginning to appear on his face. Matthew wasn't so sure he should relax, Alfred trusted people too easily. Matthew was a little more cautious when he decided to trust people.

"Ja, and some other things. My name is Gilbert by the way. Gilbert Beilschmidt. And your names are?"

"Alfred. Alfred Jones. And this is my br-sister..." Alfred trailed off, they never got so far as to think of a name for Matthew.

"Madeline. M-My name is Madeline," Matthew interjected. It was the first thing he could think of. He peeked out peeked out from behind Alfred's back and gave Gilbert a small, shy smile. The man's eyebrow rose just a bit as he politely smiled back. Matthew shuffled out from behind his brother's back to properly face the man. He had no reason to be frightened. Apart from being dressed as a girl at the moment. Gripping a bit of his wrist lightly in his hand, he nodded his head at the man.

Gilbert's face broke into a smile. Stepping forward, he took one of Matthew's gloved hands and raised it up to his lips where he held it briefly, whilst smiling devilishly. Matthew gasped sharply at the feeling of the other man's lips. Heat flooded his face and his mind went blank. He barely managed to stutter out , "H-How very bold of you sir. A-Are all Prussians this bold to a lady they just met?"

Gilbert merely smirked and gently started to let go of Matthew's, or Madeline's, hand. The man's fingers slid over the smooth fabric of his white gloves, he paused though. Gilbert didn't let his hand go all the way, just holding his fingertips. His slim hand felt warm in the Prussian and Gilbert smiled at him. Gilbert wasn't very surprised to see her face flushed with colour. These British women were so high strung, getting so worked up over such a little thing.

"Not all of my fellow country men are like me, young lady. Though even better men than myself would lose their reason for a moment in the presence of such beauty."

Alfred inwardly gagged and then frowned.

Matthew continued to blush. Though the line sounded something like what Francis would say to his lover in the heat of passion. He shyly smiled at the man.

* * *

><p>Gilbert inwardly smirked, but kept a pleasant smile on his face. Even if he never captured the little songbird, he found something equally as amusing to chase after. She was a very lovely young woman, with long golden hair and kind violet eyes and a slim frame. He found her flushed face endearing and resisted the urge to touch her cheek and feel for himself how warm it was.<p>

It was just then that her brother stepped in to separate them. "It is unfortunate, but you will have to excuse us. We must get this food home to the help in the kitchen. They are utterly swamped and are in dire need of these supplies." Alfred was smiling kindly, his uncomfortableness not showing in the slightest.

"Oh, forgive me then. I apologize for taking up your time." Gilbert also smiled pleasantly, not betraying his annoyance on his charming face. He would have liked to stay and chat with the two siblings, but the brother seemed unwilling to let that happen. Well he couldn't blame him. If he had such a lovely sister, he would have been protective of her also.

He smiled and waved them off as the two siblings continued down the park path talking in hushed voices. Alfred seemed to be upset about something, probably him, and Madeline was attempting to calm him down.

Whistling a cheery tune, he headed back to the hotel. Tomorrow night he would seek out the brothel to woo the young man.

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><p>"He was coming on to you! Can't you see that!" Alfred's voice was soft but carried the power as if he was yelling.<p>

"I know!" Matthew hissed, "But if you'd notice, I didn't take my hand away. He was quite charming."

"Why didn't you take your hand away? I don't like him!"

"Well I happen to! Now let's get these back home before Arthur gets mad at us for taking our time!" Matthew hissed at him one last time before turning and continuing down the path and eventually back to the brothel. Alfred eventually broke down and started to apologize to his brother. Matthew stayed silent till they reached their home, when they gave the groceries to who even was in the kitchen at the time and retreated back to their shared flat. Matthew smiled at him and gave him a small pat on the hand. He couldn't stay mad at Alfred, just as Alfred couldn't stay frustrated with Matthew. They smiled at each other and rehearsed a couple of songs with smiles on their faces.

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><p><strong>Apologies for not updating sooner, so I made a longer chapter as punishment for me. ^ And thank you for all the wonderful Reviews!<br>**

**But they met! Finally! Although, not in the way that I originally planned. Yay for the ruler button!**

Please review!  
>P.S. I have decided on who Alfred will be falling for. Though I will not tell~<p> 


	9. Chapter 8: Assailants

~oOo Chapter 8 oOo~

Alfred always liked to perform in front of an interested crowd. It made him feel good as he saw the eyes that watched him get a faint glaze as his music took them into a far off place. His fingers flew on the strings of his violin, spinning music and landscapes from nothing. He loved the looks of the crowd as they begged for them to continue, looking desperate and hopeful for just one more note. He smiled blissfully as he let himself get carried away by the music and his brother's voice.

Matthew hated performing in front of any crowd. He hated the people who came to see them, but it was the eyes that bothered him the most. He hated the moment when he began to sing and saw the men's eyes cloud over with lust, desire and awe for the two young men on the stage. He hated the minutes after they finished and the crowd begged them to continue, looking like they were men deprived of water that the two brothers took away from them. Matthew wasn't sure if Alfred saw it that way, but his brother was also famous for being oblivious and simply reading things wrong. So he put on one of his best smiles and continued to sing the verses of another country's language.

Gilbert disliked going to performances. He disliked the performers who showed off their talent for money and flaunted their skills in the crowd's faces. He disliked the audience as they cried out for "More!"

"More!"

"More! Encore!"

"Yes! Encore! Encore!"

He thought they sounded like pigeons, all cooing around each other and begging for seeds to quiet their hunger. He preferred to stay at home, or go to a common bar even, just to drink and talk and laugh. He liked parties though, high class or common. They were like games to him. Who could he figure out, who he could shag and get away with it, who he couldn't anger for fear of the business being jeopardized and such. Much better than seeing a lousy opera any day. He smiled a dark and mischievous smile.

* * *

><p>Arthur watched from the shadows as the boys walked into the largest room the building had and settled down on the small stage. He started attending some of the more "public" appearances his staff made for the last three years now. After a few small <em>instances<em>, he decided he needed to make sure his employees were safe and the money kept pouring in. So he stood half behind one of the thicker curtains as he watched the crowd warily.

Alfred was doing some last minute tuning on the rented violin before settling underneath his chin with a broad smile. Matthew settled on pretty wooden bench, adjusting his skirts to his satisfaction before giving his brother a small smile and giving the crowd a very different one. Matthew and Alfred were both dressed in the fine suits that the Frog had given them. He hated to admit it, but the Frenchman knew a thing or two about fashion and how to make a man look good. Not that he'd ever tell the man. The old wooden benches were almost filled and it was still a couple minutes before the performance would begin. Arthur gave his own secret smile as counted the coins in his head.

The seats were filled and the boys were nearly ready to begin. The British man saw a flash of white out of the corner of his eyes but gave it no attention for the moment. The mood of the crowd was good, they were excited. Especially about the boy's new clothing. They whistled and laughed. They would probably be getting drunk very fast and become very loose with their purse strings. Arthur could expect a good night. Perhaps even a sip of his nice brandy before going to bed. The white he noticed before turned out to be someone's hair, though under the dim lights it looked like a very pale orange. The strange man wore a strange smile and smiled and joked with the other men there. Arthur gave it no thought and turned his attention back to the stage. It was time for the show to begin. He didn't even notice the figure that slid up beside him.

Alfred smiled at his brother and received a shy one back. Matthew and him looked great tonight. The very picture of polite femininity and him as a charming young gentleman. He adjusted the violin on his neck and began the first few notes. Easily sliding into the song they knew by heart. It was a cheery song and his violin sang beneath his fingers as the notes flew into the room.

The young man finally opened his mouth and sound flowed out in a constant stream of pleasure. His voice dipped and rose with the lyrics of the song and simply _flowed_. The audience was spellbound from the first note. Matthew smiled gently at the crowd, singing the happy French song, though on the inside he was squirming.

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><p>Gilbert leaned back on the wall with a confused air. Did Sadiq lie to him and tell him it was actually a <em>woman<em> and not a _man_ who was the star of the brothel? Did he perhaps he mishear? No, he was too awesome for that, Sadiq must have been mistaken. This creature was most definitely a woman. Who also curiously looked like the young lady he met today. Madeline was her name, he wouldn't forget a beautiful woman's name.

He never thought such an innocent looking woman would work at a brothel. Nor her brother also. What an interesting arrangement. A man in the row in front of him turned around and looked at him curiously. Well, he was awesome and he shouldn't have been surprised that people would look at him. Nodding at the man, he turned his attention back to the woman and man on the small wooden stage just in time to hear the first notes spill out of her mouth.

For one of the very few times in his life, Gilbert Beilschmidt was shocked into silence.

He had never heard such a pure voice, especially one that betrayed it's owner's hardships. Somehow, he managed to keep his jaw from hanging down to his chest. Suddenly, it didn't matter that he couldn't understand the language the song was in. Her voice painted pictures for everyone; a young girl meeting a lover under the cover of darkness, stealing away with him only to find out he is the son of a powerful duke and they live their long lives in happiness and wealth.

A feeling begin to curl in the Prussian's gut. Want, need and desire. He wanted this woman, wanted her to be his and his alone. He needed to keep hearing her voice, the pictures it painted and the feelings it brought out from inside of his was amazing to say the least. He began to desire her, not just for her voice but also for her beauty. He wanted to ravish her, to spoil her and her in turn, spoil him.

He clenched his fingers around his biceps and attempted to control the predatorial smile on his face that threatened to rise. Oh, how he wanted this little bird and he would use as many resources as he had to acquire her. So he waited patiently and instead of stewing on this, he merely listened to her voice. It was a very attractive voice, though it was a lot lower in pitch than he thought it would be for a quiet young woman. He didn't dwell long on that thought though, many women had low singing voices.

And all too soon, it ended.

The last notes of the last song fell away slowly. The audience cheered and whistled, some more derogatory than others. Others looked disappointed that the wonderful dream was over. Some catcalling happened, but a couple glares from a irritated man in the back shut them up. Gilbert figured that the man must have been the owner.

Alfred rose from his seat with a giant grin. "Thank you all for coming tonight, but my brother, Matthew, and I must retire now. Gotta be able to play and sing again." The crowd laughed heartily and soon ended up calling for "one more song!"

Wait... Brother?

A few things snapped into place in the Prussian's mind. So 'Madeline' was really 'Matthew'. He wasn't sure that if he should laugh or feel slightly offended. No wonder he heard things like "...his new costume is brilliant," and, "...he looks just like a real woman in that." He chuckled to himself.

The alcohol had been running freely during the performance and many of the men were a little more than drunk. They were pawing the brothel employees and many were led away into rooms farther back into the building towards a blurry night that they would probably not remember. Only to find themselves waking up, if they were lucky they would be next to their partner from last night, if they were not so lucky they would be waking up on the streets and possibly going home to a raging wife.

* * *

><p>Arthur smiled, or one could say that it was a smirk, as his boys finished up their performance. He watched as Alfred took Matthew's arm and steered him away in to the back. As usual, a few men came up to him and asked for the boy's price. He had to tell them haughtily that they were not like the usual people in this place. They were not prostitutes. They only stayed here to earn a bit of money and have a permanent place to sleep. A few of the men were persistent until he and another man had to physically remove them from the building. Once coming back in, he was pleased to see the women and men leading the audience to their rooms. He could expect a very profitable night tonight. The British man smiled to himself as he watched the room clear out.<p>

* * *

><p>The crowd was finally thinning and Gilbert took this opportunity to sneak behind the stage. Slipping between men and women, he slowly made his way to the stage. He felt someone grab his arm and he could feel a pair of breasts press up against his limb.<p>

"Good evening sir. Can't I offer you a drink?" A young woman looked up at him through her eyelashes. He knew what she was doing. She would offer him a drink, get him drunk and in to her bed and his coin purse considerably lighter.

He gave her one of his more attractive smiles, "Danke Fraulein, but I will have to refuse this time. I am eager to talk to your little singer."

"Singer? You mean Matthew?" she frowned at him, he brows scrunching up over her eyes. "You'll have to get the Boss's permission for that or something. Been like that since someone went backstage and scared the poor wee lad."

"I already have permission Fraulein," he smirked at her. Of course he didn't, but she didn't have to know that. She let her arms slide from his and stepped back.

"Alright then. Now you don't go scaring the poor boy. He's a timid little thing and I don't want to see him hurt."

Chuckling, he swept her a mocking bow before he turned and stepped on to the stage.

* * *

><p>Matthew grimaced as he was led backstage. During the performance, out of the corner of his eye, he saw white. Also the face of the young an that he had met earlier. Managing his composure with great effort, he had continued to sing. Another glance at the man sent a few shivers down his spine. His eyes were... disturbing. Not the colour of them, they were actually quite beautiful, but the fact that all he could see was an abnormal desire within them. He could almost have felt a single bead of imaginary sweat slowly make it's way down his back.<p>

It was done though, now he could relax for a while. The brothers both had a day off tomorrow so he could sleep in and rest his voice. He sighed with relief, a hint of melancholy tinging his breath as he sat down on the familiar wooden stool and slipped the wig with the decorations off of his head, placing it on the table and ruffled his hair with a smile as he took off his gloves. He chuckled to himself, his voice slightly hoarse. Matthew wondered if any of the new guests in the audience realized that he was a man.

"So I guess you really are a man after all. You had me completely fooled you little minx," came a voice from behind him. Matthew was somewhat overcome by a sense of deja vu as he spun around and stood up to face the intruder.

"M-Mr. Beilschmidt! W-What are you doing back here? Y-You're not allowed to be back here," he cried out hoarsely. He didn't want the Prussian to know about him. Not that he wasn't a girl or that he worked in a brothel. Gilbert probably thought of him as just another whore waiting to be bought. For some reason, that thought cracked his heart a bit.

Gilbert took a step towards the man and Matthew shuffled back. The Prussian gave a cocky grin to the scared man and stood still. "It wasn't very hard to get back here, you know. You have a terrible security system."

"B-But why are you here? I-I'm not for sale and neither is my brother."

He laughed loudly. "I'm not here for that." _Yet,_ he added to himself silently. "I seem to be quite taken by you and my awesome self would like it if you spent the day with me tomorrow." Matthew blinked, blanking for a minutes. It seemed like his tongue just didn't feel like working. A minute passed before he could finally move his jaw.

"A-Alright," he said. He could feel a blush spreading across his features as he smiled slightly. "I-I do have a day off tomorrow."

"Awesome. The awesome me shall pick you up when the eleventh bell rings." Matthew nodded. He could be up by that time. He would leave his window open so he could hear the ringing of the bells from the clock tower in the middle of the town.

"A-Alright Mr. Beilschmidt. I will meet you at 11. G-Good night." The young man turned to leave, but the Prussian caught him by the wrist, a smirk on the man's handsome face. Matthew's skirts rustled as he moved backwards. He turned to face the man to ask him to let go but he couldn't find the words as he felt lips on his skin. Gilbert had gently, once again, kissed his hand; looking up through his pale lashes to look at the blonde man. Said man gasped slightly, but made no move to yank his hand away. He could feel himself trembling, he wasn't sure why, but Gilbert's eyes seemed to bore in to him.

Gilbert released him and bid him an "awesome night", as he would say. He watched him leave and sunk down on to the stool, unsure of what just happened. His mind felt foggy, not an unpleasant fog like the kind you get when you have a concussion, but a giddy, happy one. He grabbed his gloves and slipped out of the brothel and into the cold London air.

* * *

><p>The fog in his head was slowly starting to clear as his breathed out plumes of air into the night. Matthew leaned against the cold brick of an unknown house and looked up at the full moon, smiling to himself. He could hear laughter and the clopping of horse hooves in the distance, drowned out by the rest of the city. He had spent nearly half an hour in the cold and his fingers were slightly numb. Pushing himself off the brick wall he wrapped his jacket a little tighter around him as some sort of slight protection against the night air. His shoes made a slight sound underneath his skirts as he walked back home.<p>

He heard footsteps behind him, probably someone else walking home also, but just to be sure it was that and not some killer, he stopped suddenly. They stopped also. Matthew discretely gathered some of his skirt in his hands as he continued to walk down the silvery illuminated road. The footsteps behind him sped up and so did his. His heart began beating erratically, fear clouded his mind as he sped up. Soon he was in a full out run. Why, oh why did he have to wander so far away from the brothel? He rounded a corner, nearly slipping on a puddle and could see the lights from the windows of the brothel. Hope could be felt in his chest, but escaped half a moment later when he felt rough hands grab his arm and waist. Matthew couldn't turn around and his voice had seemed to have left him with his hope as he was slowly dragged into a small, narrow side street. In a moment of pure desperation he clawed at one of the brick walls and finally screamed. The brick cut into his hand and wrecked his nails, but he could hardly feel the pain over his fear.

"Hush now my pretty Matthew, we wouldn't want anyone finding us do we?" his assailant asked as he pressed something cold and metallic against the young man's throat. Matthew stopped dead and his knees nearly gave out if not for the man holding his waist. He could faintly see the outline of the man in the moonlight. Probably around 30, built and certainly dangerous. He was pressed up against cold brick and a leg was shoved between his skirts so he couldn't escape with out much difficulty.

"Now let's see what you look like only dressed in moonlight my pretty Matthew." He tried to scream, but he couldn't. He just prayed for someone to save him. He didn't care who, be it God or the Devil, he just wanted to be saved.

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><p><strong>And finally another chapter is done! Hooray! I am now switching this story back to be rated M. For it will only get worse from here, and eventually Matthew and Gilbert getting together, but that's for another time.<strong>

**Reviews are lovely and I appreciate every single one of them. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and has stuck with this story.**


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